


Monsters in the Woods

by angrythingstarlight



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier - Fandom
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27360268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angrythingstarlight/pseuds/angrythingstarlight
Summary: Your attempts to flee the super soldiers go horribly wrong. Whats scarier the monsters you know, or the ones you
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Reader, Steve Rogers & Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 112





	Monsters in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on tumblr https://www.tumblr.com/blog/angrythingstarlight

“I’m heading out,”. 

Resisting the impulse to roll your eyes, you plaster a fake smile on your face-you call it your professional, fix your face so you don’t get fired smile-before peering up from your screen. 

Mark, one of the new coworkers, an agent as he likes to remind everyone, needing to distinguish himself from the ordinary employees, pushes open your cracked door. A too wide smile covers his face, his greasy hair slicked back, your skin crawls when his beady eyes openly scour over your body. 

“Alright then”, you counter, looking back at your screen, exaggeratedly typing nonsense on the blank page, hoping he’ll take the hint.

He doesn’t, tossing his jacket over his shoulder, he saunters over to your desk, leaning against the wooden edge, causing it to move slightly. You steady your screen, eyes flickering up at him, holding back a sharp sigh. “A group of us are getting together, grabbing a few drinks before going home if you want to join us”. 

A brief shake of your head as you lift the hefty stack of files beside your laptop. “Sorry, can’t”. Another forced smile and your eyes drop back to your screen. Looking at the time in the corner, you want to groan, another late night, nothing new for you, ever since this merger with SHIELD, you’ve been the last one to leave the office. 

“Well, maybe we could do something,”. 

Yeah, you could do your job so I can go home at a decent time, you think. Bills, girl, you’ve got bills. “Nope, but thank you”, you respond so sweetly, dragging out the last word, you almost gag. You resume punching the keys loudly. 

You mutter an uh huh to his goodbye, waiting until the door clicks shut before wiping your palms down your face. Rolling your neck, then your shoulders, you lean back into the smooth leather chair, stretching your legs beneath your desk. Toeing off your high heels, you lean over reaching for your work bag. Setting it on your lap, you pull out the pair of sneakers and shove them onto your feet. 

Pushing your chair back, you stand up twisting your back, feeling your bones crunch as you move. Leaving your small office, you mentally list off everything you need to do before you can go home. Stepping into the corridor, you turn towards the break room, heading down the long dark hall, the lights automatically dimmed after eight, the slight squeak of your shoes the only noises you can hear in the virtually vacant building.

Bright light stings your eyes when you pull open the door, you nod at Jeffrey, a maintenance worker, wiping down the table, music blasting from his headphones. “Sorry” you frown, going to your tip toes when you notice the wet floor. He grins, motioning for you to continue. You grab two styrofoam cups from the cupboard, filling them both, throwing in cream and sugar. You set one down in front of Jeffery, playfully waving off his thanks as you tiptoe out the room. 

Blowing off winding steam, you shoulder your door back open, kicking it shut before you plop back down in your seat. You settle in for another long night when the emergency notification flashes across the monitor. You click on the link, skimming the abrupt message. Your stomach twists into knots as you read it again and then once more. Dread gnawing a path to your gut.

Compromised. Infiltrated. Fugitives. James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. Steven Grant Rogers. You’re in danger, leave now. Building breached. 

The words pound in your head, repeating over and over. 

Glancing around your office, the room spins for a second, a simple string of words throwing your world off its axis. Taking a deep breath, you start to reply to Fury’s message, your fingers hovering above the keys. Your hands quiver as you pull back, closing the lid. You push your chair back into the wall behind you. 

Tossing your bag on your chair, you shove your heels in followed by the stack of files and your laptop. You take your phone, sliding into the pocket of your black slacks, briskly moving to the door. 

Peeking your head out, your eyes sweep the hallway. You spot Jefferys bucket and mop by the elevator. You sling your work bag over your shoulder followed by your purse, one last look up and down before you sprint to down the hall. 

Stabbing the down button with your index finger, you look around before following the glowing numbers above the doors. The slow tick up to your floor agonizing, shuffling your weight on your feet, you plead for it to hurry. Two more floors before it reaches you. Your breathing slows, evens out 

And then you hear it. 

The soft scuff of a boot on the freshly mopped floor. 

One more floor.

Another step behind you, closer, the back of your neck prickles.

The lights flicker before shutting off. 

You clutch your bags to your body, holding your breath. Another step, the doors slide open, you fling yourself in, holding the close button. 

You think you see a bulky shadow at the far end. You can’t be sure.

You press the button harder, releasing a shuddering sigh when the doors finally close. 

You press the buttons for every floor before getting off on the third floor. Searching your purse, you find your keys and work ID. You round the corner to the emergency exit, flashing your badge to silence the alarm before it sounds. 

Running down the stairs, you ignore the painful bounce of your bag on your side. Hearing a dull thud above you, you run faster, skipping every other step, gripping the railing for balance. Shoving open the door to the parking garage, you send up a quick thanks that your car is by the door. 

You hold your hand steady as you push the key in, pulling open the door. Tossing your bags on the passenger seat, you start the engine. Adjusting the rear-view mirror, a black shadow passes over, looking back, you don’t see anything, the parking lot empty except for your lone car.

It must have been your imagination. Calm down, everything’s fine. You’ve planned for this. You know what to do.

Shaking your head, you laugh nervously, tires screeching as you pull out of the space. A few twists and turns and you’re outside, the building fading away in the distance, the radiant full moon shining down through your windshield, stars dotting the cloudless sky. 

Strumming your fingers on the steering wheel, you can’t stop the thoughts churning in your head, the knots in your stomach nearly painful with worry, fear. Focus on your training, the plan. 

Stick with the plan and you’ll be fine.

The empty highway stretches in front of you, buildings giving way to patches of land, you haven’t seen another car for miles, just a tanker and a speeding motorcycle thirty minutes back. The expansive darkness broken by your headlights, green highway markers pass overhead, so close to your destination. Glancing over at your bag, you debate if you would have enough time to stop at your home or if you should keep going. 

Would they even look for you there?

Would they be looking for you at all?

Maybe you were overreacting, Fury was one for dramatics. What could anyone possibly want with a low level analyst, anyway?

Looking back at the road, you slam on the breaks, the loud squeal vibrating throughout the car. Your body lurching forward, chest hitting the steering wheeling. Your heart pounding through your chest as you stare at the lump in front of you. Even with the headlights its hard to tell what it is. 

Warning bells ring in the back of your head, screaming to not get out the car 

You lift up your hips, pulling your phone out of your back pocket. “Fuck’ you whisper, the screen blank, you thought you charged it this morning. You back up, stopping when the lump moves, a sad, hurt sound emitting from it, not quite a moan, almost a jagged cry. 

Shit.

Don’t get out of the car, just take off and call for help at a gas station, you repeat to yourself. 

Then it does it again. The sound piercing your fragile heart. Your nerves on edge as you stare at it. 

Fuck.

Opening your door, you place one leg outside of the car, popping your head through the opening. “Are you okay?”. You cringe as you speak, of course shapeless crying lump on the ground isn’t okay, they wouldn’t be shapeless lump on the ground if they were. 

It curls up on itself, another sad moan. You step out of the car, leaving the door open, the soft dinging from your vehicle following your hesitant footsteps. As you approach it, you hear your name spoken softly behind you.

Swiveling your head, you see only your car. The empty road behind it swallowed by the darkness. Your eyes search the trees lining the road, you can hear the distant sounds of rummaging, animals, at least you hope its animals, moving through the unkempt brush.

What’s scarier, the unknown monsters lurking in the trees or the known ones beyond them?

Shaking your head at the morbid thought, you turn back around. A small gasp falls from your lips. 

Its gone. 

The road is empty, no traces that anything was there. 

Swallowing, you back up, freezing when you realize you no longer hear dinging. 

Taking a shuddering breath in, you turn to your car. The door is closed, the lights slowly fade until you’re blanketed in twilight, you can scarcely see in front of you, squinting your eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the glow from the moon. 

Your head swiveling around, you kneel down to look under the car. Seeing nothing there, you approach the vehicle, looking in the back seat, the little you can see looks empty. You pull on the handle. 

It doesn’t budge.

Pulling harder, you hear your name again. 

A sob catches in your throat, you know that voice. You’ve heard it hundreds of times on tv, in meetings and debriefings. A voice that should inspire hope sends fear slithering down your spine. 

Captain Steve Rogers steps out of the shadows, his dirty blonde hair combed back, a thick beard adorning his handsome face, his plump lips twisted in a smile. You’ve never seen this dark suit. The star stretched across his broad chest. 

His deep blue eyes hold a predatory gleam, aimed straight at you. “Don’t you know you should never leave your car running?” He holds up your keys, rattling them in his gloved hand, his other hand holding his belt. 

He raises a brow, “Anything could happen”. The unspoken threat heightens your dread, you can practically taste it on your tongue.

You take a step back, licking your chapped lips, clearing your throat, “Captain Rogers, please-”. 

“Isn’t that right, Buck?”

Looking over your shoulder, you watch as Sergeant Barnes emerges from the trees. You can only see his cold blue eyes above his mask. His black leather suit tailored to his tall, muscular body, weapons strapped to the belt.

This is not the suit issued by the avengers. You’ve heard rumors of this suit, of this mask, seen it in smudged pictures. From when he was the Soldat. You whisper the word. His eyes narrow, the vibranium arm reflecting the silvers of moonlight as he acknowledges you with a two-finger salute.

“Aren’t you lucky we found you first?” Steve smiles at you, “Here you’ll need these”. He dangles the keys from his fingers. 

“Captain Rogers, I had nothing to do-” you take a step away from both men. Your chest aching, sweat beading along your hairline. “I just- You continue to back away, knowing that your chances of escaping not one but two super soldiers are slim. 

Captain Roger’s eyes darken, his smile unchanged, “Come here”. The captain’s command stops your movements. 

Thickly swallowing, you shake your head, “Please Captain Rogers, just let me go, I don’t have anything you want, I only have access to low-level intel”. You hold your hands out in front of you, a feeble attempt to ward off the unmoving men. 

He lets your keys drop to the ground, your eyes fling back up to his face when he steps on them, the sickening crunch of metal under his boot. “You have something we want, princess”. 

You shudder at the nickname, his eyes moving deliberately over your trembling body. “Right pal”. 

You stare at Sergeant Barnes, his eyes brightening as he studies you. His hand clenching and unclenching, as if he needed to grab something, grab you. 

Reaching into your pocket, you pull out your phone, “Ill call Fury”. You try to sound firm, convincing, “A team of agents will be here in a heartbeat”. Your eyes widen when he chuckles. 

“Go ahead, princess, but your phone has to be on first”, Captain Rogers laughs, a short, bitter sound echoing in the night air, “I’m getting the feeling she doesn’t want us to save her,”. 

“So ungrateful, a beautiful little thing like you stranded in the middle of nowhere gets rescued by the avengers and you’re rejecting our help,”, he continues, his voice light, mischievous.

They move in unison around you, encircling you, not moving closer but drawing you to the edge of the woods. Your feet shifts from solid ground to soft dirt.

He places his fist across his chest, “I’m hurt, Buck, she doesn’t know how to properly thank a hero,”. 

He strolls to you, the crunch of the gravel emphasizing his heavy steps, “Perhaps she needs a little education”. 

A flash of silver catches your eye, Sergeant Barnes casually tossing a knife in the air. Your eyes follow it up and down, past his cold eyes. His gaze on your face, his arm draws back and you feel the knife fly past your ear before you even realize that it left his hand. 

“Run”. 

You stumble down the grassy slope; the brush giving way to giant looming trees, their branches swaying over your head. Blocking out the night sky, each step taking you further into the abyss. Twigs snapping under your feet, rushed harsh gasps escaping your lungs. Your hands sweeping out as you run, the old paths hidden under the overgrowth. 

You know they can hear you. Steve tells you as much, calling you back to him. You keep moving, dodging trees, ducking under branches. Your shoes losing their grip under the soft mossy forest floor. You struggle to keep your balance, your knee buckling under a slippery patch, your palms breaking your fall. Captains Rogers’ voice bouncing off the trees, everywhere and nowhere at all once. You never felt more alone or surrounded. 

“Come out, little lamb” his growl echoing around you. Frantically turning your head, you try to pinpoint where he is, unable to decide which way to run, desperately afraid to make the wrong choice. 

Holding your hand over your mouth, you step back, gently lifting your foot when you feel a branch start to snap, stepping over it, you move back until you hit a solid tree. Leaning your head back, you inhale through your nose, eyes searching the surrounding thicket. 

“Dont you know monsters lurk in the woods, good thing we’re here sweetheart,”, the captain calls out. 

You reach behind you, hands hitting leather instead of rough bark. Before you can react, a leather clad hand slides around your throat, your scream cut off when he squeezes, a mangled gasp caught in your mouth. Looking up, Sergeant Barnes’s eyes penetrate yours. Another knife flashes before your face, this blade longer, curved at the end. His eyes never leave yours, you can see it moving back and forth in your peripheral vision, another twirl in the air before it lands gracefully in his hand. 

He plays with the first button on your shirt, easily popping it off with the end of the blade. “Please Mr.Barnes” you rasp, unable to control your heaving chest, another button gone, lost somewhere on the forest floor. “Sargent, you don’t have to do this, please just-“You hold your breath when he brings the tip of the blade over the mound of your breast. 

He slides the blade to the valley of your breasts swiftly bringing it down, your shirt falling open. His hand falls from your throat, a gentle push at your back and you fall forward, his knife sliding up the back of your shirt, the material falling off your arms. You brace yourself for his attack, only looking up when you hear Captain Rogers calling for you. 

Looking around, you see a sea of trees. Scrambling to your feet, you reach for your torn shirt when you hear more taunting. Closer than before, the next words making your tired feet move faster than before. 

“You’ll forget about all this when I’m inside of you”

You make it over a massive fallen trunk; you crouch behind it, looking over the wide tree. You shriek when you feel the band of your pants pulling away from you. You whimper as the blade cuts through the back of the silky material. Sergeant Barnes grabs your arm, backing you into a tree, the bark pushing into your skin. You squeeze your eyes shut when you see the blade come down, the tip of the blade dragging along your thigh, your pants fluttering off you. 

You wait to feel the blade again, your breath faltering, burning in your lungs. When nothing happens, you crack open an eye, shoving your fist in your mouth to stop from weeping. You can’t take much more, you have to get out of here, you have to. 

You move around the tree, peering up, trying to see if you can detect any hint of the sky, hoping that there may be a clearing or the main road. You don’t notice he’s back watching you until you feel the steel on you. He taps it around your side, his head tilted as he stares down at you.

He twists the knife up your soft belly, a slow dance over your flesh, the cool metal pressing gently enough for you to feel it, not quite enough to break through. Holding it flat against you, he slides it up a quick flick of his wrist and the middle of your bra comes apart. 

He observes a tear trail down your face, running down your chin. Taking the edge of the blade, he collects it, wiping it over the tip of your nipple, your stomach constricting in fear. His thumb swiping over it, ignoring your soft pleas to stop. 

He guides the knife under the curve of your breast, pushing it up. He steps closer, the heat from his body enveloping you, his forehead rest against yours. 

Then he’s gone, back in the shadows 

You collapse to the ground, knees sinking into the dirt. You’re terrified, vulnerable, you want to crawl under a bush and hide until the morning. Your head snaps up when you hear Steve to your left. 

“Sweetheart, let us rescue, isn’t that what every girl wants”. Now he’s behind you or is he in front, you can’t tell but he’s close, “To be saved by Captain America”. Turning your head, you see the faint outline of him amongst the trees, Bucky just to his side. 

You break into a run, arms out to protect your face. You see a break in the woods, a sliver of light to your right. You turn skidding to stop, scrambling you find a splintered wooden gate, a small cabin beyond it in the middle of a clearing. 

Hooking your feet between the broken slates, you climb over it, falling onto the muddy ground. You half crawl, half run to the front porch, you nearly bang on the front door when you notice the dirt covered windows, the broken down swing scraping along the side. Biting your lip, you decide to take your chances breaking into the cabin then alerting the soldiers to your location. 

You walk around the outside, pushing at windows until one gives way. Hoisting yourself up, you fall to the dusty floor. Standing you pull it back down, you look around the room; it appears to be a bedroom. Your stomach plunges at the thought of being caught in here. You make your way to the hallway, finding a closet. Pushing past old coats, you squeeze yourself into a corner, sitting down with your knees pulled up. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there. Your hopes that they’ve given up are crushed when you hear the staccato knock at the front door.

“Anyone home?”, Steve calls out, “Guess we’ll let ourselves in”. Hot tears race down your cheeks, you wrap your arms around your knees. 

“Where could she be?” 

Steve again. 

You can feel everything in that dark corner of the closet. Everything amplified, each step moving around your little hiding place, when the lights flicker on, a yellow glow radiating around the cracks of the door. 

You see it. 

Your muddy footprints, breadcrumbs leading the wolves to your location. Your heart sinks in your chest, part of you knew that the minute they seeped out of the shadows you would never escape. 

How could you? 

“Oh sweetheart, where are you?” 

You bite down on your lip, a low whine in your throat.

“Are you in here?”, he sings out, doors open and shutting. “Guess not”

Footsteps move closer to the closet, you can see the edge of his muddied boot under the door. 

“Bucky, do you think she’s in here?”. 

You watch the handle turn, shake. 

“No, that would be too easy right pal”, he muses. Steve toes the muddy footprints, rolling his eyes at Bucky.

.You hold your head, screaming when the door flings open. His dark laughter mocking you. Your feeble attempts to punch, kick at him, easily blocked. Your limbs immobilized around his powerful arms. “Dirty little girl”, he breathes down at you. 

“Fuck you”, you scream as he throws you over his shoulder. 

He laughs again, a sharp slap to your ass. “Language princess”. He marches you back into the bedroom, setting you down. He folds his arms, looking over your disheveled body. 

He looks pristine, if not for his boots you would have never known he had been chasing you through the woods. “You look beautiful” he smiles, “Even better with my cock in your mouth”. 

You cover your breasts with your hands, ignoring his heavy sigh. Keeping your eyes locked on his boots, you try to control your breathing. Unable to stop from trembling. “You can still let me go, I won’t say anything”. 

“Bucky, get her cleaned up, I’ll be back”. He leaves out the room, the masked man taking his place. Your eyes flicker up to his, when you move away, he taps his belt, hand caressing that familiar handle. Chucking off his mask as he gestures for you. When you hesitate, his eyes flash, impatience, lust deepening the blue orbs. 

Bucky grabs your arm pushing you into the small bathroom. You cower between the sink and toilet. He turns on the shower, the room filling with steam. He crouches beside you, reaching out, his large hand lifting you up by your chin.

Any fight you had left dissipates when you look down, his array of weapons evident in his belt. The mere outlines terrifying up close, you glance up at his eyes and nod. 

He bends down, lifting your foot, losing your balance making you grab his brunet locks, fisting the hair between your fingers. Your ruined shoes removed, tossed somewhere. He slides his hands up your bare legs, parting your thighs. Looking up, you focus on the single yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling. 

Bucky rubs your inner thighs, smoothing the skin, rubbing the dirt away. Reaching down, he plucks a blade from his belt, swiftly removing the last of your clothing. The rest of your resistance cutaway, shredded on the floor. 

Flipping it over, he takes the handle and glides it through your folds, holding you in place when you jerk away, your little muffled shriek amusing. ““How long have been wet, sweetheart?”. 

You look away in shame. He stands up, forcing your face back to him, your arousal coating the black handle. “Could have fucked you in the woods, huh, had you pleading for my cock”. He smears it across your lips before flinging it into the wall. His lips crashing down on yours, forcing you to taste yourself, his tongue invading your mouth. 

Your hands punch his chest, his belt pressing into your exposed stomach. Every part of you exposed to him. You bit down on his lip until he pulls away. His tongue lapping at the dents left behind. 

“Thats how you wanna play this, princess”, he snarls in your ear, roughly smacking your ass “Get in”

You ease into the shower, the hot water beading down your skin, a swirl of grime around your feet. Through a cloud of steam you watch as he undresses, the belt falling to the floor with a thud, tactical gear tossed on the sink, his black Henley over his head revealing his muscular chest and abs. He stands for a second, observing you, his chilling gaze cutting through the heat of the shower. a smirk on his lips as he unbuttons his cargo pants. 

Helplessly gawking when his thick cock springs free bouncing against his abdomen, the swollen tip dripping with precum. He grabs his shaft, pumping slowly, “Can’t wait to feed you every inch, princess”

“Turn around, hands on the wall” 

You obey, scrunching your eyes shut when you feel him behind you, his cock on your back. Bucky takes a loofah and lathers it up, washing your body. Each lazy stroke up and down your skin, the heat from the shower, his body overwhelming yours, all of it making you dizzy. 

“Please dont’” you whimper, feeling his warm hand trail down your stomach to your mound, his fingers parting your folds. You tug at his wrist, the rough calloused pads of his fingers finding your bud, rubbing tight little circles over it. 

“Stop, Bucky, please”. 

His head drops to your shoulder, lips brushing the apex of your neck, “Aw princess, this pussy is begging to be fucked”. Bucky watches your struggle to hold in your moans, his hearing picking up the quiet sounds. “Protests all you want, I know what you need”. 

His fingers move down to your core, two thick fingers push into your wet channel, his palm rubbing on your clit, “This is ours, we take care of our toys, doll” 

His fingers curling, thrusting in and out, his long digits striking that spongy spot until you’re clenching down around him. You want to hold back, not give him the satisfaction of making you cum, but it feels so good, each twist of his fingers is so good. 

“That’s it, there you go”. He praises when you grind on his hand, each stroke deeper in you, pushing you closer to the edge, his fingers moving faster and faster until you break. “Sing for me, princess”. 

Steve chucks your bags in the closet, nodding to himself, your moans making his cock painfully hard. He unzips his suit, stepping out of it by the time he reaches the door, “Having fun?” 

Bucky chuckles, “Yeah punk, we’ll be out in a sec”. Bucky turns off the water, stepping out the shower. “I can make you get out or you can leave on your own”. He smirks, licking off his fingers. 

You follow Bucky out into the softly lit room, Steve lets out a long, low whistle when he sees you, water dripping down your body. You glance between the two soldiers, every part of them big, too big. You dash back to the bathroom, thrown off balance when an arm wraps around your waist.

Thrown on the bed, you bounce on the soft mattress. Screaming, you kick out at Bucky, he easily catches your ankles, forcing your legs back. His hungry gaze focused on your dripping cunt. Steve walks over, palming his erection, “prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, enjoy pal”. 

You try to twist away, crying out when you feel his hot wet tongue glide through your folds, his mouth sucking your sensitive bud. He lays an arm across your stomach, holding you in place. 

Steve looks down at you, “open up for me”. You turn your head, putting your fist over your mouth. He drops his back, groaning, “sweetheart”. He reaches down, putting his hand around your throat, “Open. Up.” 

You claw at his hand, choking as he tightens his grip. Bucky raises his head, his face shiny with your slick, “Fuck Stevie, she likes that”. 

He raises a brow, “Ill fuck your pretty throat regardless if you’re awake or not”. You reluctantly open your mouth, gasping for air as Steve inches his cock into you. Bucky moves back to your pussy, separating your folds before sucking your bud into his mouth. 

Your moans vibrating over Steve’s cock, he holds your head steady, pounding into your throat. The sounds of you gagging filling the room, tears streaming down your face as he fucks into you. Hot waves of pleasure spiral through you with every stroke of Bucky’s tongue, he eases two cool metal fingers into you moving, searching until he finds the spot that sends you arching off the bed. 

“Damn, do that again”. Steve groans above you, sweat dripping off his forehead, his face flushed as you take him deeper in your throat. Pressure building within you when he does it again and again, until it explodes, heat rushing up your body, your scream muffled by Steve’s pistoning cock. Gushing around Bucky’s face, your body tightening down. Steve falls forward, groaning as he spills into your mouth. 

When he pulls out, you cough, spitting his seed on the sheets. He breathlessly laughs, “gonna have to teach you not waste your food, sweetheart”. 

You glare at him, rolling over on to your side, rubbing your neck. 

“How was she?” 

“Perfect”. 

You’re still feeling the aftereffects of your orgasm, when you’re shuffled in a tangle of limbs, hands. No longer in control of your body, letting them move you wherever they want. You find yourself on top of Bucky, Steve lifting your hips up guiding you over his dick, pushing you down until he bottoms out. Your walls stretch around his thick length, a burn coursing through you as you adjust to him, your nails digging into his flesh, your head on his chest, small huffs escaping your lips. 

Steve sits back, stroking his cock, his eyes focused on your ass, Bucky smirking as he spreads your cheeks. He slowly thrusts up, a low whine in your throat, moving enough for you to feel him, just brushing past your g-spot before stopping. A low tug in your belly, something just out of reach, you need him to just move, do something. 

“Please” you whisper, voice taut, hoarse. You don’t know what you’re pleading for, only that you need more. You need it more than you need your pride, your morals. Viciously shutting down that little voice in your subconscious telling you to not beg. “Please Bucky”. 

“Words, sweetheart”. 

You shift your hips, crying out when he stops you, “Please”. 

He smacks your ass with his vibranimum hand. “Words”. 

Another smack, harder you clench down around him. “Fuck me, please fuck me”. 

He looks over at Steve, “You heard our girl”. Steve leans over, pushing the head of his cock into your tight hole. 

“No, I can’t”. Your eyes widening as you pull away from the unfamiliar intrusion. 

“Wanna bet” Steve spits on his hand, smoothing over his cock before pushing back into you, watching your puckered hole swallow his cock. “Look at that, taking this dick”, he smacks your sore cheek, making your squeal. 

Tears burn your eyes as he fills you. You collapse on Bucky’s chest when they move, each deep thrust jerking you between them. The pain giving way to intense waves of pleasure beating across your body, barely able to breathe as they fuck you. 

“Not gone last long in the tight cunt”. Bucky grunts, moving faster, harder into your tight core, your walls gripping him as he pulls out. Steve following his lead until the sounds of skin slapping your cunt gushing around him echo in the room. Each thrust inside your tight body, sending your eyes rolling back. 

They can feel you get closer to your peak, your body quivering around them, Steve pulls your head back, his mouth slanting over yours, taking in your need gasps. 

.That’s it princess, gonna fill you up, cum for me now” Bucky’s cool fingers finding your clit, the sensation on your heated flesh pushing you over the edge, making you keen. 

Your body clenching down, eliciting groans from both soldiers, Bucky’s thrusts turning wild, erratic as he chases his own orgasm, shooting his hot load into you. Steve breaks the kiss, gripping your waist, snapping his hips into yours, Bucky stroking your sensitive clit. You fall back on Bucky, as Steve groans your name, warmth filling you when he cums. 

You let your head rest back on Bucky’s shoulder, reaching around to grab his head dragging his face towards you, kissing his swollen lips, unable to control the whimper as Steve slides out of your sore ass. You barely hear the quiet sorry, exhaustion overtaking your body. Bucky shifts your weight over to Steve, his arms encircling you, supporting you while Bucky eases out of your cunt.

Closing your eyes, you yawn into Bucky’s chest, the tangy taste of his sweat on your lips. Hands rub your back, someone lays you on your back, you flinch at the sudden warmth between your legs, the cloth wiping away the mess. More murmured apologies as they clean you up. 

“This was the best one yet”, you mumble, your arm flung over your eyes “Had no idea you were going to pretend to go evil”. 

Bucky strokes your cheek before pulling the duvet over you, “What are you talking about?”. 

You turn your head, blinking sleepily at your boys, “How did you even hack Fury’s account, he’s going to kill you when he finds out you used his tech for our games”. 

Bucky and Steve exchange knowing glances, Steve grabs your phone from the drawer. Scrolling through the frantic messages from the rest of his team, his former team “That’s our secret sweetheart”, he smirks. 

They wait until they’re sure you’re asleep before stepping into the hallway. “Who’s going to be the one to tell her”. 

“Doesn’t matter, not like we’re not letting her go”. Steve looks back into the room, crushing your phone in his hand. “She’ll get used to her new life”.


End file.
